


Art

by dreadwoof



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Crack, Romance, basically canon, the good kind though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 00:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7383601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadwoof/pseuds/dreadwoof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor is thirsty and Solas is the cold drink she needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Art

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 "Solas this is an order." 

"No."

"No? I'm serious."

"As am I." He climbed the last stairs of her quarters and towered over her. "No."

"Please?"

He shook his head, utterly grim and fatalistic. 

"No."

That's it.

"You leave me no choice." And her hands grabbed the end of his flimsy tunic. She reveled at the alarm flashing on his face.

"What are you-"

Solas would never get the chance to finish his question. He gripped her wrists but it was too late. 

A flash of fire suddenly engulfed his body and left him, tragically, bare-chested and momentarily terrified of his vhenan.

She planted her hands on the firmness of his torso, eyes glazed with what some might call awe (pure, unadulterated lust or divine worship). 

He glared at her.

"Are you serious."

She hummed in response, tearing her eyes away from his beautiful,  _beautiful_ body.

"As serious as the hermit workout you've apparently been doing. 

He blinked.

She winked.

Once again, she let herself critically contemplate the lean muscles that shone triumphantly against her fingers. 

"You're practically drooling," he whispered, a silent discovery.

"Can you blame me?"

"For my obliterated clothes, yes." He glanced at the pyjamas she always seemed to always wear. "Perhaps, I could return the favour?"

A gasp and she was at his shirtless mercy.

"You wouldn't dare. No."

She shivered before him, and he flexed his muscles as a final act of victory.

"Oh for _you_ ," He grasped her bosom - a god's only weakness. "I would."

She could only watch the fire reflected in his eyes. 

And thus, the Inquisitor's only real treasured possession was no more.

For years, she would grieve the loss of her trusty garb.

"You bastard."

He smiled. His lips looked soft.

She stared. 

She grabbed his cheeks and then kissed him, almost crying out in joy because his beautiful,  _beautiful_ body was flush against her own.

But alas, the Inquisitor's work is never over. She sighed, reaching down to tame the squeezing hands.

"Now let me coat you in the sturdiest armor, apostate." 

This time, Solas did not fight or begin mass rebellion. Instead, he stole another kiss, and gave up his weary frame to her.

She guided him to the balcony and made him lean on the railing. He looked for the armor. 

There were buckets of mud next to him.

He groaned.

She smiled. 

Then slapped the first hand of mud on his abdomen. 

He groaned again.

"Is this your arousing way of telling me that you'll love this?"

"No."

He shuddered as a hand trailed lower to his- "Possibly." 

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to teryster, my wife in crime and solavellan enabler (check out her art on tumblr!)


End file.
